


Auld Lang Syne

by MisusedEllipsis



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Akuma Attack, Awkward Romance, Childhood Memories, Communication Failure, Exes, F/M, Gabriel Agreste is an Asshole, Jealousy, Lost Love, Love Triangles, Minor Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Misunderstandings, Nathalie Sancoeur-centric, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, New Year's Resolutions, Old Friends, Original Akuma, Original Character(s), Poor Nathalie Sancoeur, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Season/Series 04, Protective Gabriel, Tragedy/Comedy, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21744037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisusedEllipsis/pseuds/MisusedEllipsis
Summary: The New Year’s Eve Plan was supposed to be simple.  Akumatize the girl, defeat the heroes, the end. But when an old flame appears to sweep her off her feet, Nathalie finds herself reminiscing about the past. And Gabriel finds himself battling feelings he didn't know he had.First time MLB fic. Absolutely adore this ship. I'm in deep y'all. Enjoy!
Relationships: Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 98
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

The New Year’s Eve Plan was supposed to be simple. 

Akumatize the girl, keep Adrien safe, and then finally overcome those meddling heroes and collect their Miraculous, once and for all. 

But as she walked beneath the Eiffel Tower, surrounded by dozens of workman, set pieces, and models, Nathalie Sancouer knew that the most difficult part of the evening would be surviving the chaos that was Andre Bourgeois' charity fashion show. 

Just minutes after arriving with Adrien in tow, Nathalie was struck by the sheer grandeur of it all. Pure gold statuary, a champagne punch fountain, drapery of the finest silk, even a pure marble red “carpet”. Andre Bourgeois was by no means a man in need of conservative financial planning, but this level of abundance was overwhelming. 

"It seems that Audrey has finally got her hands on the events budget," Nathalie mused to herself as she motioned for Adrien to follow.

“With all this gold, you’d think they’d be able to get a few fire pits out here, I’m freezing,” he quietly groaned, giving Nathalie a chance to also note the distinct chill in the reception tent they entered. 

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “I made a special request for a heating unit in your dressing room. It may very well be the only heated place on-site tonight.”

He smiled as he wrapped his coat even tighter around him, “Thank goodness.”

The boy was to model some of the new Agreste designs, as well as a few special accessories from one very lucky contest winner.

“A-Adrien!” A small voice called out to them from across the way. 

Marinette Dupain-Chang waved nervously as she approached them, her cheeks glowing from either the cold or her perpetual state of embarrassment whenever she spoke with Adrien. Nathalie assumed the latter. 

Adrien waved back before glancing at Nathalie, “Can she come-”

“I’m sorry Miss. Dupain-Chang,” she cut off coldly, as per the plan, “But Adrien must get ready for the rehearsal. You did leave your pieces in the dressing room correct?”

The girl nodded, “Y-Yes, but I-”

“Very well then.”

Taking Adrien by the arm, Nathalie led him away towards the stage door. 

“Please, Nathalie!” He begged, “It’s just Marinette. She probably wants to talk about her designs. You know she worked hard on them to win Father’s competition. Plus it’s freezing out here and -”

“I know,” Nathalie sighed, “And I’m sorry. But there are going to be some very important people here - people who could make or break your career. And your father will not tolerate distractions. So until the event is over, you are not to be seen talking to anyone besides the show director, your make-up artist, and myself. Is that clear?”

Adrien’s shoulders sunk in defeat as he opened his dressing room door, “Alright. I understand.”

“Good-”

“But you don’t have to be so cruel about it,” Adrien snapped. 

His green eyes burned with something like rebellion. 

“If Father wants me to be a friendless snob, that’s fine, but you could have at least given me a minute to say hello.”

And with that, the dressing room door slammed in her face. 

She hated it. She hated separating him from the people he cared most about, but it was all going to be worth it this time. 

If their source was correct - and Lila Rossi was rarely wrong - Marinette Dupain-Chang had pinky-promised her entire group of friends that she would confess her love for Adrien that very night. It was a sort of New Year’s Resolution for the girl, who had had an all-consuming crush on Adrien for quite some time. 

If Marinette’s hopes were crushed, it would leave her vulnerable for an Akuma, the likes of which Paris had never seen before. And Hawmoth’s wish could finally be realized.

And so Nathalie was tasked with keeping Adrien hidden away in his dressing room all night. No matter what happened, she could not allow Marinette Dupain-Change a single moment to speak her heart before midnight.

But as she continued to stare at the closed dressing-room door, tormented, Nathalie could only pray their plan would actually work this time. Maybe then Adrien could have a normal teenage life. 

“Teenagers, am I right?” A voice chuckled at her right.

Unphased, Nathalie turned to see hazel eyes gleaming back at her. She blinked once and silently took stock of the man before her. A perfectly pressed navy pin-stripe suit, gaudy floral scarf, perfectly trimmed mustache, and impeccably coiffed auburn hair. Nothing special.

“I’m sorry, do I…”

The man chuckled nervously, his gaze dropping, “Oh, apologies, Nat. I assumed you would still recognize me.”

Nat? There was only one person who called her that. And those eyes...

“Anatole? Anatole Durand?”

His gaze lifted again, joyful, and he gave a little bow, “The one and only.”

She stood agape. Memories flooded her mind, memories she’d rather have forgotten entirely. But they couldn’t keep her from smiling as she clutched her tablet to her chest, suddenly very self-conscious about what to do with her hands. 

“But it’s you! Here, in Paris. I can’t believe it!”

“Oh, you better believe it,” he beamed, his smile as blinding as always, “I always said I’d come back, you know.”

“Well yes,” she cleared her throat and straightened her jacket, only somewhat maintaining her usual facade, “But it’s been ages. I thought you were in New York for good. What happened?”

He shrugged and gestured around as a forklift deposited a solid gold “Happy New Year” sign center stage, and red curtains were drawn shut to conceal the show’s final set-piece. 

“When Audrey Bourgois asks you to fly home to plan a charity event, you don’t say ‘No’.”

Nathalie chuckled at that. She could only imagine.

“Also…” Anatole continued, sneaking a glance at her, “I knew Agreste would be involved this year. And I’d heard you were working for him...so…”

As though the man in question had sensed their conversation (which was not entirely beyond him) Nathalie’s phone rang.

"Sir-"

“Nathalie, please tell me my son is in his dressing room as scheduled?” Gabriel Agreste’s booming command blared through her phone’s speaker. 

“Indeed, sir. I left him there moments ago,” she explained. Her shoulders straightened as though she were a soldier being inspected by a commanding officer, “Why, is something the matter?”

Gabriel continued, in vague terms, about his grand plan, about the importance of the night’s mission, but Nathalie wasn’t listening. Instead, she watched as Anatole pushed his hair up like Gabriel's iconic swoop, folded his arms, and mimed some absurd argument, pointing his finger and silent-yelling. Nathalie couldn’t help but chuckle under her breath at the perfect imitation.

“...and then we will finally - Nathalie...are you...laughing at me?” Gabriel’s confused query broke Nathalie from her giggles and she straightened once again, shooing Anatole away.

“No, sir! I was only talking to an old friend.”

She could hear a pin drop on the other end of the line.

“You have friends?”

Nathalie inhaled sharply, her eyes rolling despite herself, “It may come as a surprise to you, sir, but yes. Forgive me for being distracted. Anatole, here, has quite a sense of humor. But please, continue with your monologue. I am sure it is as vitally important as always, sir.”

“I-I…” he stammered. And Gabriel Agreste does not stammer.

“Sir?”

Silence again.

"If that's quite all, sir-" 

“We will continue this discussion later, Nathalie.”

He hung up. 

“Finally. Is he always like that with you?” Anatole asked, gazing at her in wonder.

She wrinkled her brow, “Like what?”

“Oh you know, like a dictator,” he explained as he pushed aside the curtains and lead her out towards the catwalk, “Like he expects you to drop everything to follow orders.”

“Sometimes,” Nathalie sighed, her eyes lifting to the sparkling chandeliers above the stage, “But I’m sure you can sympathize. Audrey Bourgeois can’t be much different.”

“Touche,” Anatole let out as he turned to inspect a number of flower vases filled-to-bursting with white and gold roses, “Still, I remember you, Nat. Never one to take orders, never quite satisfied with the side-lines. What happened to your modeling career?”

“That was a long time ago, Anatoly,” Nathalie began, but a delicate chiming from Anatole’s pocket interrupted her.

“Ah, forgive me, I simply must stay on schedule,” he reached in to retrieve a gold pocket watch, one Nathalie hadn’t seen in years.

“Of course, if duty calls...” Nathalie nodded matter-of-factly.

Anatole chuckled, his eyes trained on something over her shoulder, “For both of us, I think…”

Following his gaze, Nathalie spotted Adrien sneak along the side of the stage and hop down, carefully trying to avoid her eye as he crawled behind the rows of seats towards the reception tent.

“I’ll see you later then?” Anatole asked, a sort of hopefulness in his eye, “We should catch up.”

“Sure,” Nathalie let out without a second thought as she began towards her charge. 

She could feel Anatole watching her, but she ignored it as she took a deep breath. It was business as usual for Gabriel Agreste’s personal assistant, no matter what old flames appeared from out of the blue.

She cleared her throat harshly just as Adrien emerged from his hiding spot, preparing to make a break for it. 

Green eyes turned to her again in disappointment.

“Oh come on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Master?” Nooroo cautiously asked again. 

But no luck. 

Gabriel Agreste stood frozen, his phone still in his hand. His shoulders becoming tenser with each passing moment. 

“Master, is something wrong? I’ve never seen you like this.” Nooroo explained nervously as he flew around to see Gabriel’s face. And it was a face indeed. 

His eyes blinked every so often. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His mouth couldn’t decide if it wanted to frown or grimace.

“Is this about what Miss Natha-”

“But she doesn’t have friends!” Gabriel finally burst out, clenching his phone in his hand with such force that Nooroo feared he might break it, “When would she possibly have the time for friends? She’s always here! And when she’s not here as my assistant, she’s here as Mayura or Catalyst, or…”

Nooroo cocked his head to the side. 

“Master...are you saying she shouldn’t have time for friends?”

“No, of course not, it’s just that I…” Gabriel stopped and took a deep breath, composing himself, “I’m surprised she’s never mentioned anyone to me before. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of this Anatole person before.”

“Can you blame her, master?” Nooroo flew around the room, disrupting a few sleeping butterflies, “You are Hawkmoth.”

Gabriel growled under his breath, but then his features softened.

“Perhaps...” he sighed, a bit low, “I don’t know what came over me. It’s really none of my business who she associates with in her own time. I suppose I’ve simply grown accustomed to having her undivided attention.”

Nooroo shook his head. He never could quite understand his owner. Particularly in regards to matters like this. Human emotions were tricky things but, for someone with the empathic Butterfly miraculous, Gabriel Agreste was spectacularly inept at deciphering his own.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg thanks so much for all your comments and kudos! I hope you enjoy!!

“One, Two, Three, and turn! One, Two - No, Adrien darling, try again,” Monsieur Dupont clapped his gloved hands as the music halted.

Nathalie watched from the seats as Adrien was instructed yet again on the “proper” modeling steps. Apparently this wasn’t some run of the mill fashion show. It was quite literally a show. With choreography, and lighting, and very specific music cues which the poor boy was in no way prepared for. 

He was quite talented musically, his father had seen to that, but his dancing lessons had fallen to the wayside after…

Nathalie sighed. Yet another reminder of everything that would be restored once they finally got their hands on the miraculous. 

Which, if the afternoon was anything to go by, might not be as difficult as she had originally thought. Marinette was stuck helping her parents with the baked goods they were providing for the reception, so even if Adrien did have a spare moment during rehearsal, the girl wouldn’t have a chance to catch his attention and confess. Her frustration was already so palpable at this point in the day, surely Hawk Moth would be able to manifest an akuma and defeat the heros by midnight. 

“Finally!” a familiar voice let out as she felt a presence fall into the seat beside her, “I never catch a break!”

Turning, Nathalie was met by those familiar hazel eyes yet again. This time, they were reflecting a rather different mood.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, seeing the frustration in her old friend’s brow.

Anatole snorted, “Well, it will be once the contractors actually show up with the patio heaters I ordered. I knew something was bound to go wrong, and it had to be the heating of all things!”

As though the very mention of heat was enough to remind her body of its current temperature, Nathalie shivered and hugged herself. She was seriously regretting her outerwear choices. A thin trench coat was professional, but hardly warm.

“Oh dear, it’s that bad isn’t it?” Anatole asked, beginning to remove his own wool coat, “Here, take this-”

“No, I-”

“Nat, don’t even question it,” he urged, draping it over her shoulders before she could argue, “It’s my fault that I didn’t cross-check the final contracts. I can’t have you getting sick on my account.”

She wanted to protest, to yank the coat off her shoulders and return it as quickly as he’d bestowed it. But the warmth from the woolen tweed was enough to keep her quiet. She took a deep breath.

“Is...Is this Eau Savage?” She asked, inhaling the subtle scent and noticing the blush which grew on Anatole’s cheeks, “It is! It’s the same cologne you wore in high school!”

“Guilty as charged, but how on earth did you know that?” he asked, not quite looking her in the eye, “I don’t even think my mom would remember what cologne I wear.”

“Oh that’s easy. It’s also the same kind-”

Anatole’s eyes met hers. There was a quiet understanding there, something she hadn’t expected after 18 years. It felt like a punch to her gut. 

“The same kind he wore, right?” Anatole finished for her.

She couldn’t look at him, and she could feel her own face growing flush.

“So, what ever happened? With that upperclassman?” he asked calmly, but Nathalie could tell it was an act, “Did you ever confess to him?”

She shook her head.

He sighed and smiled as he sat back in his seat, "I'm sorry to hear that. You know, I always wondered who-"

A ringing interrupted him, and for once Nathalie was glad for it. Until she realized it wasn’t her phone that was ringing. 

Pulling up her tablet, she didn’t even have to read the caller ID.

“Sir, I-”

Gabriel’s face filled her screen and it was obvious that he was not happy. 

“I thought we had an arrangement, Nathalie. You were supposed to be giving me updates on the...situation,” he cleared his throat, as dramatic as ever, “And yet I haven’t received a single message since our earlier call. Now, pray, tell me what is so important that you would-” he paused, his eyes searching, “That’s not your coat.”

Nathalie froze. The warmth around her suddenly felt like a fiery volcano but she slowly explained.

“This is Anatole’s. My friend from before, he-”

“If I can explain, Mr Agreste…”

Nathalie had to force down the yelp that nearly escaped her lips as Anatole nestled closer beside her to get within shot of the tablet’s camera. She could see Gabriel’s mind racing even from beyond the video screen, and she could only silently plead that he would not think this a grave offense.

“I am Audrey Bourgeois' new event manager. Due to an unfortunate mishap, our patio heaters have not arrived yet. But have no fear, your son and Nat here are being taken care of in the meantime.”

Nathalie could have sworn she saw Gabriel flinch at the sound of her childhood nickname, but she couldn’t be certain. She was probably just imagining it. 

~~~~~~

She wasn’t.

Gabriel Agreste stood with his tablet before him, watching as this stranger spoke too quickly, behaved too familiarly, and sat far too closely for any true professional. 

It was an outrage. 

“Mr. Durand,” Gabriel interrupted sternly, feeling his face begin to lose it’s stony mask, “I appreciate the gesture, however, Nathalie is under my care. As she is my personal assistant it is my duty to look after her. I understand there is a heating unit in my son’s dressing room? I believe we had it delivered?”

Mr. Durand’s eyebrow raised, “Yes, but-”

“Then, Nathalie, feel free to leave your post and seek refuge there. It will be much more comfortable for you.”

He could see her jaw clench. She was holding back a retort of some kind. Perhaps she wanted to refuse him. But why the sudden rebellion? It was unlike her to question him. And besides, he was only thinking of her wellbeing.

“Very well, sir,” she finally uttered, before lowering her voice, “But might I remind you about the plan? Someone must be here to ensure nothing goes amiss. I'd hate to give anyone the opportunity to distract your son in conversation…"

Damn it. She was right. She was always right. And she knew it too. Just from the glimmer in her eyes, he could see she knew exactly how to play her cards.

“The plan is going splendidly, Nathalie. I don’t think you could have done better,” he seethed through his teeth, “But perhaps, it might be time to unleash Phase 2-”

“Phase 2? Really?” Her shock was delicious.

Gabriel nodded, “Indeed. Whenever you feel it most appropriate. I leave it to your discretion, of course. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must continue with my own project. We both have a deadline you know…”

“Yes, sir,” She nodded, though he could tell she still questioned his decision.

But she couldn’t argue. It was the perfect ploy, the final straw that would send Miss. Dupain-Chang over the edge. 

~~~~~~

“What was that about? Phase 2?” Anatole peered at her as she finally ended the call, confusion etched in every line of his face, “And talk about a micromanager...How can you put up with that? Who does he think he is to you?”

Nathalie stood, Anatole’s coat falling from her shoulders. 

“That’s enough,” she muttered, “I should go-”

“Wait-” 

She felt his fingers curl around her wrist, gently, holding her back just enough.

“I'm sorry, I know I have no right to judge," he sighed, "It's just that...Its hard for me to see you take that sort of treatment."

"You dont understand," she began. 

"I know, but I want to," he continued, his thumb rubbing across her knuckles tenderly, "I suppose I'm just so used to the old Nat. The Nat that I…" he trailed off with a shake of his head, "No this isn't the right moment. But later, I really need to talk to you, alone," he begged as he brought his other hand to her cheek, “Tonight, at the top of the tower here, above the noise, above everything. Just us.”

She could hardly breathe as she pulled her wrist from his grasp and backed away, "Anatole, you know I have-"

"Work, I know, but please…" his gaze pierced hers, sincere and warm, "For me, Nat."

She couldn't say no to those eyes. Not like last time.

“Alright,” she whispered, “Later. 10 o’clock. We can talk.”

Anatole’s smile could light up the room, and Nathalie found herself blinded even as she turned and began towards the backstage tent, her heart hammering in her chest.

And she didn’t know how to react, what to think, or feel about him. It was frustrating, really. She had a job to do. And she wasn’t going to let Anatole distract her from her duty.

As she made it to the wings of the stage, the models had entered their final pose of the show, and Adrien stood proudly amongst them as the finale song ended and the curtains were opened to reveal the Happy New Year sign 

Even through the bright stage lights Nathalie could just make out Marinette standing back in the reception area, watching Adrien with her usual look of adoration. The girl quickly spoke with her mother, then her father, who nodded warmly. She quickly took off her apron and entered the seating area where a small group of crew had gathered around.

At this point, Anatole joined the models on stage and addressed the entire team, thanking everyone for their hard work. 

"This truly has been an incredible opportunity to work with you all. Thanks so much for taking time out of your holidays to help us raise money for…" he continued on, ever the elegant speaker. 

Nathalie was too busy watching the way Marinette moved closer to the stage, towards Adrien. 

The girl was confident, with a determined look about her. It was clear she was on a mission - a mission which Nathalie hoped would never be completed.

"So, good luck tonight," Anatole finally reaching the end of his little speech, "And Happy New Year!"

The crew and models broke from their huddle and began back to their opening places. 

Nathalie zoned in on Adrien as he began towards the backstage curtain, unaware of Marinette who had made her way up the stage steps.

It was time to strike.

“Adrien!” Nathalie stated, stepping from her spot behind the curtain and making absolutely certain that Marinette was well within earshot, “Your father just called. Everything is ready for your flight to Japan tomorrow.”

Adrien’s eyes widened, “Japan? What are you talking about?"

"You know your father has a vested interest in the Tokyo fashion market. He has been making steps to move there this coming year,” Nathalie explained, reciting her lines as best she could, “Aparently those plans have come to fruition a bit earlier than even I expected. He wants you on the first flight to Tokyo after the show tonight-”

“He can’t! That’s not- What about school?” Adrien was a bundle of anger, frustration, “What about my friends? I can’t just leave!”

“You can, and you must,” Nathalie forced, hating how she sounded, “Your father has already made arrangements with the school. We will all be leaving for Tokyo as soon as possible-”

As Adrien continued to protest, Nathalie saw Marinette’s shoulders slump, her eyes lower and begin to well up with tears.

“This is insane Nathalie!” Adrien shouted, beginning to draw the attention of other workers and crew, “He can’t just do this!”

“Adrien, please,” Nathalie urged though she knew the boy was right, “It’s what’s best for your career-”

“Forget my career, what about me?" He asked with such ferocity, Nathalie almost didn't recognize the boy, “I’ve finally made some real friends here, I’m doing great at school! Why does he always have to ruin my life like this? I hate him! You can tell him that, I’m sure he won’t care.”

Nathalie took a deep breath and held her tongue. If only Adrien knew everything that his father was doing for him, what he was risking. This really was for the best, just not in anyway Adrien could understand right now. 

“Adrien-”

“Just forget it,” he stated as he marched away to the backstage, “I’ll do this show, and I’ll go on that stupid flight, but don’t think for one second that I’ll go quietly. I don’t care how much trouble I get in with Father.”

With that final blow, he bolted backstage to his dressing room.

Nathalie wanted to rush after him, to assure him that she understood his frustration, but she heard a sniffle from behind her and turned to see a teary-eyed Marinette.

"Miss Dupain-Chang, are you alright?" She asked, "I am sorry you had to hear that."

"Is it true?" The girl asked, her voice so quiet Nathalie almost couldn't hear her, "Adrien is...leaving? Forever?"

Nathalie sighed, "I'm afraid so. Was there something you wanted to speak to him about?" She asked, knowing full well the hurt it would cause, "I can pass along a message, if you like…"

Marinette thought for a moment, her eyes lowered. Nathalie could see the way her lip quivered, and her brow furrowed with regret. She found herself sympathizing with the girl, her own past seeming to be playing out before her very eyes.

"No...thank you," Marinette finally whimpered.

Nathalie gave a polite nod and turned away, not wanting to see Marinette's heartbreak any longer. She quickly headed backstage as the director called ten minutes till places and the stage lights lowered. 

Pulling out her phone, she sent Gabriel a message. 

~All yours, sir.

As much as she hated to admit it, Nathalie was certain the girl was caught perfectly in their trap. Hook, line, and sinker.


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel stared at his watch for a moment as he paced his office, feeling only somewhat anxious over their plan. Nathalie would not fail him, she never did. But what if something happened? What if Anatole Durand proved to be too much of a distraction? What if his intentions were far from admirable? The very thought of it, the vision of Anatole embracing Nathalie, perhaps even drawing her in for a kiss…

Gabriel’s stomach churned and he slammed his fist on his desk, startling Nooroo who had taken to napping on the graphic tablet there.

“Sir?” he asked, immediately sending the jealousy radiating off his owner, “Did something happen with Nathalie?”

Gabriel turned to him, aghast, “Why would you think that? Nothing has happened, and nothing will happen if I have any say in the matter! It’s unprofessional! I don’t care how charming this friend of hers is!”

Nooroo only squinted at him, perplexed by the lack of context to Gabriel’s outburst, but unwilling to question it. 

Gabriel stood straight again, gathering himself. The visions of Nathalie and Anatole still plagued him as he tried to sketch out something of a spring collection. Luckily he was torn from his spiraling thoughts as he felt a familiar aura from his miraculous.

“Nooroo, this is it,” he murmured as he turned towards the golden mural.

The little kwami flew to his shoulder just in time for the secret elevator to open at his feet. The short ride to his lair gave him time to zone-in on the emotions which swarmed throughout Paris. A frustrated barista dealing with angry customers - perhaps another day. A lonely man who missed his recently deceased dog - not quite. A joyful family preparing a midnight breakfast - too happy. A son, furious with his absent father - a little too on the nose.

Finally, he felt the perfect mix. Heartbreak, regret, embarrassment, hopelessness. A girl surrounded by glamour and light, at the highlight of her young career, feeling the wasted years weigh on her with each passing minute. 

“Dark Wings Rise!” he commanded, feeling the rush of power instantly. 

Now he was able to sense the full intensity of the girl’s sadness, and how keenly she had cared for his son. If their plan wasn’t so perfect, he would have felt sorry for her. 

“She has a bright mind and a pure heart, but there is no time for sympathy now,” he stated coldly to himself and pulled out his tablet, “And Paris will have no time at all once my Akuma takes flight.”

He flipped to the live broadcast of the event, watching as the famous and well-to-do lined up on the red-carpet beneath the Eiffel Tower. Anyone who was worth anything was there, in their most stunning ensembles. Most were Agreste designs, he noted proudly, though some guests wore them better than others. 

The time ticked on, and he could feel Marinette’s emotions take a turn for the worst, a deep sinking emptiness.

An alert chimed at the top of his screen. 

'All yours, sir.'

He began to type a reply, but the video feed caught his attention as Nadja Chamack pulled aside a particular gentleman for a one-on-one interview just outside the reception tent.

“So, Anatole Durand, tell us what have you been doing since returning to Paris?” she asked, as excitable as always, “I understand you have been in New York for quite some time. But you were in school here at-”

“Ah yes, many years ago,” Mr. Durand replied with a bright smile, “In fact, my schooling is why I have returned, why I wish to remain in Paris now.”

“Will you be joining the world of Academia, Mr. Durand?”

The man blushed. Gabriel grimaced.

“No, rather, I am reconnecting with an old school mate-”

“Sources tell me you are schoolmates of Audrey Bourgeois, as well as Gabriel Agreste? Will you be teaming up for future projects?”

Gabriel blinked.

Schoolmates? He’d never seen the man before in his entire life until a few hours ago! How on earth-

“Well, I was a few years behind them,” Mr. Durand explained, “I am sure they never even noticed me.”

That sounded about right, Gabriel admitted to himself. He’d never been a social butterfly, aside from necessary work-related gatherings of course.

Mr. Durand chuckled nervously as he began again, “That is to say, they were so passionate about their work. It’s truly admirable. But no, they are not the reason I am staying. It’s someone entirely different. Someone very special to me. She’s-”

“She? Might I ask, Mr. Durand, is it Love that keeps you in Paris?”

Mr. Durand blushed, his eyes lowering to the golden pocket watch he was fiddling with, nervous. 

“Perhaps...Something like that.”

Gabriel blinked again. His miraculous suit was beginning to feel very stuffy, which was rather odd since it was literally magic. 

“We are old friends, you see…” Mr. Durand sighed, “Eighteen years and an ocean apart, and I haven't stopped thinking about her. And, well, I want to prove I can be better for her than he- than someone else. It’s a long story, and I know she would kill me if this were to get out, so, you know, if you could edit this, that’d be just swell.”

“Ah…” Nadja laughed heartily, “Mr. Durand this is a live broadcast, I’m afraid what’s out, is out!”

Silence penetrated the feed as Mr. Durand blanched, his entire body frozen as he stared straight into the camera. 

Nadja nudged him gently and he slowly walked off-camera, away into the crowd.

“What an interesting story!” she exclaimed, “Back to you Phillipe!”

Gabriel found himself turning the tablet off as his heart raced with a vengeance. He knew exactly who Mr Durand was speaking of. And she would never return his advances. Nathalie Sancouer was many things - a hard-working employee, a loyal confidante, a selfless ally - but she was no romantic. 

Whether or not this man had any serious intentions, Gabriel knew Nathalie. And she would never do something so foolish as to fall in love.

Love makes people do crazy things. 

Get a tattoo. Have children. Buy a cottage. Turn into an alter-ego villain in order to steal jewelry from teenage superheroes. Go vegan. 

“Anatole will find his romantic overture a failure, of course,” Gabriel muttered, “She is too smart for that. And I should know, I’ve known her since… I can’t quite remember it now. Five...no...Seven years? Oh it can’t have been that long, can it?”

Gabriel looked around for confirmation but found only the dozens of butterflies that flew about. He cleared his throat as he realized he was indeed speaking to himself again.

But surely it hadn’t been more than seven years. He made a mental note to check their payroll records. It would be awful if he, Gabriel Agreste, had forgotten something as important as a five, or ten year company anniversary without granting a sufficient raise in salary. Especially given her...special over-time projects.

Whatever the case may be, Anatole hadn’t spoken to her in some time, Gabriel noted. Not since high school, if the interview was anything to go by, and as such-

Gabriel’s alarm on his tablet rang, and it set off an altogether different alarm in his brain, fitting together the pieces of a puzzle he hadn’t realized needed to be solved. 

“Sir, you received my message?” It was Nathalie, of course. It was always Nathalie, “I see you’ve been typing something for a while. Was there anything you wanted to tell me?”

He could only stare at the video call, at her face, her dark hair, that playful red streak, her blue eyes. He recognized her, but of course, he did -she was Nathalie. His assistant, his co-conspirator, his ally. His friend - if he actually had those anymore. 

“Sir? Is something wrong?” she asked with her usual over-concern, “The show has begun, have you sent the delivery yet?”

Could it be…

“Nathalie…” he began, not entirely able to control himself, “Did we go to school together?”

He could feel a sudden ache through his miraculous, not unlike the pain Miss Dupain-Chang had exuded some moments ago. Shock, confusion, humiliation, regret. But as suddenly as he felt them, the emotions were gone.

And aside from her widened eyes, Nathalie’s expression had not given away her true feelings. But he had felt them all the same. And she knew he had, too, judging by the way her eyes suddenly lowered.

“Can I take that as a yes?” Gabriel asked slowly. 

Nathalie closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself, it would seem. Then her eyes opened again and he saw his assistant before him, as cold and impassive as ever.

“I will continue on with the plan as we agreed. Send off the delivery whenever you see fit. I will make sure no harm comes to Adrien.”

And with that, she ended the video call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty years ago…

"Alright class, we have a special announcement today…" the teacher began, but Nat just stared out the window. It was gloomy and sad outside, perfect weather for daydreaming. She could see the leaves rustling as a strong wind picked up and sent them dancing through the air. 

Her classmates around her started clapping, and she was forced from her reverie. Turning she saw a small group of students enter the room. Upperclassmen, by the looks of it. They were definitely older, sophisticated, mini-adults really. But they all held notebooks and sketch pads, pen and charcoal.  
Art students.  
She rolled her eyes.  
"Their project is life drawing, and we've been selected to be their models. Isn't this going to be fun?"  
This was most certainly not going to be fun.  
She braced herself as the teacher then went on to explain that each of the upperclassmen could pick whoever they wanted to draw.  
“Hmm, let’s make this interesting! Let’s start with the upperclassmen students with last names beginning at the end of the alphabet!” the teacher clapped giddily, as though it were the most ingenious idea ever.  
But Nathalie’s heart sank and she herself sank lower in her seat. She had on no makeup to speak of, her hair was in desperate need of a dye job, and she'd even forgotten to wear her contacts. This was the worst day ever!!

She heard the first upperclassman instantly pick Emilie, of course. The next picked Amelie, go figure. The twin English beauties of her class. 

The rest were selected eventually, leaving herself dead last. She peered up from her seat to see a scrawny bleach-blonde who had the most peculiar squint. He was neatly dressed, straightlaced, but clearly a little nervous to be in front of the class. 

"Very well," the teacher cleared her throat, "I guess you will pair up with Nathalie. Is that alright?" 

He only nodded.

Nathalie groaned and looked back out the window, her head resting in her hand. The rest of the class was already chattering away, introducing each other and other godawful pleasantries.

She heard a chair scoot up and she turned her head to see her partner sitting squarely in front of her desk, his face mere inches from hers.

"Whoa, dude," she leaned back, nervously running a hand through her hair, "You ever heard of personal space?"

He looked down, having dropped his pencil in surprise. It rolled beneath her desk beside her feet. She watched as he knelt down and frantically pawed around the floor, trying to find it. 

"Forgive me," he muttered, "My glasses broke earlier. I'm an absolute mess without them…"

"I'm sorry, here," she reached down and picked it up, "I got it."

Looking up, his face drew close to hers again, squinting a little. 

"Here," she took both his hands and placed the pencil in them.

"Thanks," he whispered with a small smile on his lips.

His fingers stilled against hers, and their eyes met again. She felt something like electricity blaze through her and her heart began to beat slow, steady and warm.

"D-don't mention it!" She blurted, sitting up quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly, as her head suddenly felt a little faint.

She sat there, a little confused about what to do next.

“How do you want me to be? Should I pose, or-”

He shook his head.

"I know this is a little awkward," he sighed, setting his pencil and paper down on her desk, "But bear with me." 

He reached out and lifted her chin a little, tilting it towards the window.

"I want you looking exactly the way you were just now, okay?" He stated, his fingers tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and adjusting the collar of her hoodie.

“Y-yeah…” she laughed nervously, “Whatever you want.”

He took her hand and set it so that her head was leaning into it.

After a few silent moments, he finally seemed satisfied. 

"There, you're perfect," he whispered, his face still unbearably close to hers.

She knew her face was red as a tomato but she tried to remain calm as he sat back in his seat and began to sketch. 

An hour felt like a lifetime as she sat and stared out the window, which was strange. Normally she would have wanted nothing more than to gaze out at a grey sky. But today she found herself sneaking glances at the boy with the grey eyes. 

And over the next few days, she found herself sneaking glances a lot. The art class visited them for an entire week, with their partners spending close to an hour each time, sketching and chatting. All of them except hers. The grey-eyed boy only drew. His eyes leaped from the page to her face and back, with little more than a thoughtful hum and a quick adjustment of his glasses.

It was embarrassing, how much she wanted to talk to him. How much she wanted to learn about him and get to know him. Even her childhood friend Anatole thought it was ridiculous.

"You barely know him! What's his name?" He asked as they walked along the Seine after school.

Nathalie only held her head in shame.

"You don't know???" He gasped, laughing hysterically and throwing an arm over her shoulder, "That's rough even for you, Nat."

"Shut up!" She blurted, jabbing him in the ribs. 

He had been her best friend since primary school and had been something of a brother to her over the years. So he'd known her long enough to know exactly how to push her buttons. 

"It's not like I can ask him now!," she whined, "It's already been a week and it'd be so awkward!"

Anatole nodded, "Yeah you're right. That sucks. Better give up this love now before-"

If she’d had a drink, she'd have spat it out.

"Who said anything about l-love? I don't, I mean, as you said, I hardly know him!”

Anatole laughed and counted off on his fingers, “You only know that his eyes are as grey as the sky after a storm, and that he bites his pencil when he's concentrating, and that he has a little freckle under his left eye, and that his favorite color is red, and that he wears Eau Savage cologne and-”

“It’s not like that!”

Anatole raised a brow and looked across at her carefully, twirling his pocket watch on its chain.

"Nat..."

"What?!" She cried out.

He smiled, teasingly, "You're blushing. And…" He had reached out and took her wrist in his hand, "You're pulse is pretty fast for someone who doesn't at least like the guy."

She pulled her hand away and marched off. 

"Fine! I like him alright? Is that what you wanted to hear?" She shouted, a bit dramatic.

Anatole stayed behind a little, watching her walk away. If she'd turned around, she might have noticed his hand reach out after her and then clench tightly before falling to his side again.

But she was furious.

Love. Pfft, she wasn't in love. Love was for novels and sappy television shows.

But ‘Like’?

'Like' she could stomach. 

And at school the next day, she tried to tell herself that 'like' was all she felt. She happily sat in her seat beside her partner as the rest of the upperclassmen displayed their final projects. They were all very good, though it was apparent that some had been a bit haphazard, a little slapdash at best, given the talkative nature of their artists. 

Finally, it was her partner's turn. He looked to her with a small smile and she could simply burst with happiness from just that. But as he walked towards the front of the class, her heart raced. She had never once seen his work; throughout the whole week, it'd been an utter mystery to her. Was he even good? Was she pretty enough to really be his muse? 

With a quick inhale, he shut his eyes and turned around his sketchpad, revealing his work to the class. And Nathalie wanted to cry. 

It was absolutely breathtaking. Never once had she imagined herself to be anything other than ordinary, and plain. But this random guy, this stranger, had managed to capture her true likeness in a way she never could have imagined. 

And she wasn't the only one taken aback by the artwork. The entire class seemed mesmerized.

After a moment, they slowly began to clap, as though they had almost forgotten how. 

He nodded to her as he set his piece up beside the others at the front of the room and returned to his place beside her. 

She kept her gaze on him, tears swelling in her eyes.

"Th-thank you," she whispered, "It's really...um...it's nice."

Nice? NICE?

He shrugged, "I should be the one thanking you, Nathalie."

She almost fainted on the spot. He remembered her name. And not only did he remember it, but he said it with such warmth and sincerity as if he'd known her his whole life 

Suddenly the bell rang, and he looked around, nervous.

"Ah, that's my cue to leave," he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly turning into that shy boy she'd first met, "It was nice working with you."

"Uh-huh…" she let out.

Crap. Crap. CRAP.

She didn't know his name. She still didn't know his name! The love of her young life and she didn't know his name!!

But she was too stunned, too shocked to rush after him as he collected his things and walked away, waving to her before leaving the classroom with the rest of the upperclassmen. 

She felt her heart leave her chest after a moment, a sinking clarity resting over her. She'd lost him forever. All was over. It was hopeless. She would probably never see him again. Their school was so big and the grade levels were already divided enough as it was. 

This cloud of despair hung over her as she too began to make her way out of the classroom. 

Taking a moment, she paused at the front to look at the drawing once again. The shadows and light, the curve of her neck, the delicate lines on her hand… he'd even managed to shade the colored streak in her bangs. 

She laughed a little to herself. The irony was suffocating. He had seen a beauty in her that she had never been able to see in herself. And she didn't know his name.

She heard a sigh behind her and turned to see Emilie also gazing at the portrait. 

"I didn't realize he was such a talent," the blonde murmured, "You're so lucky, Sancoeur. Gabriel's never done my portrait before and I've known him for years."

Her heart stopped.

"Gabriel? You know each other?" She asked, a little cautious. 

Emilie was popular and beautiful, though she wasn't the type to unnecessarily bully a classmate. She was actually rather kind to those she approved of, but still, Nathalie felt nervous around such school royalty. 

"Oh but of course!" Emilie laughed like a bell, "We are neighbors with the Agrestes, but it's been a while since we actually spent time together. He's such a bookworm, he studies and sketches day and night. Hardly spends any time with friends. But now I see it is worth it, if he can produce work like this…"

Her green eyes smiled as she gently ran a finger along the edge of the paper, a delicate blush on her cheeks.

"I think we can expect great things from Monsieur Gabriel Agreste…" she let out dreamily.

Nathalie looked down, her face growing hot with something like jealousy, but even more than that, she felt a giddiness in her heart. His name played over and over in her head. Gabriel Agreste, Gabriel Agreste, Gabriel Agreste.

One year later...

Gabriel Agreste was graduating. And she still hadn't confessed.

"Anatole, pinky promise, now!" Nathalie held out her hand.

Her friend spun around in his desk chair and faced her, a little confused but supportive nonetheless. They’d been trying to study at his house but were failing miserably.

"Uh, okay, it's not a blood pact," he chuckled, "Why so serious?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She wanted this more than anything, and she wasn't going to mess it up.

"I need you to keep me accountable, okay," she sighed, "I am promising you that I will confess to ’Mr. A’ by the end of the school year."

Anatole smiled, "Alright, alright, I get it. How can I help exactly, when you haven't even told me who it is! Even after two years, why do you still call him ‘Mr. A’, it’s not like-"

She shook her head and adjusted her glasses.

"I can't risk it. I know you're in a study group with Audrey and she would absolutely destroy me if this got out," she held out her hand again, determined, "Come on, pinky promise me that you'll make me confess.”

Anatole thought for a moment, before lifting his hand and setting it on the desk, pinky out.

"I've got a better idea," he grinned, "Confess to your crush, and I'll confess to mine."

Nathalie blinked.

"You have a crush? Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged, "It never felt like the right time. And besides, you have your own love story to worry about."

"Don't be ridiculous, we're friends Anatoly," she smiled, "I am here for you, and I support whoever it is you love. But they're a fool if they don't accept you."

Anatole only laughed, "Yeah, a fool…totally."

Nathalie hooked her pinky around his tightly and the two shook on their promise. 

But days soon turned into weeks, and then into months. It seemed as if her promise would never pan out. 

Gabriel Agreste was so busy with his schoolwork, studying for the Baccalaureat test, and working at a design studio, so it was a wonder she saw him outside of school at all. She managed to catch glimpses of him as he walked to and from school, but she never worked up the courage to actually go talk to him. He always seemed like he was in a hurry...and she didn’t want to be a nuisance. 

It was only a week before final exams when she actually managed to be alone with him, holed up in the library while a thunderstorm roared through Paris. 

She’d been sitting alone pouring through her literature textbook, trying to focus on some story about a young governess who had fallen in love with her employer, only to realize that his wife who everyone thought was dead was secretly living in his attic. It was a good read, and later in life, she would come to adore Jane Eyre, but at that particular moment, she hated it with every fiber of her being. 

All she wanted to do was go home, but home was several blocks away and she had forgotten her umbrella. She was just about to call it quits and brave the rain when heard someone cough. Startled, she looked up.

Gabriel Agreste sat before her, perfectly engrossed in his sketch pad. His hair had grown out a bit since she’d last sat so close to him, but he had it slicked back out of his face. He wore his glasses, though they were different frames now. His eyes were the same, intense and focused, passionate and inspired.

But how long had he been sitting there? Did he mean to sit with her when there were so many other open tables?

“H-umm...G-Gabriel...Hi?” She let out almost like a squeak, “I didn’t see you, um…”

“Sorry if I’m disturbing you,” he didn’t bother looking up, “But the lighting is better here.”

Nathalie nodded as an awkward silence fell between them while he continued to sketch. 

Minutes ticked on, and she felt like she was going to suffocate with embarrassment.

She wanted to say something, anything, but she could only stare. Gabriel’s brow furrowed as he erased something and then went back to sketching. The signet ring on his left hand caught the light, casting a little glimmer across the room. Her eyes followed it as the light danced across the books and shelves around them.

Suddenly, the glimmer of light vanished and she turned back to see Gabriel staring back at her. 

He cracked a small smile.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he admitted, “You looked like a cat following a laser light.”

God, she wanted to die.

“A cat? Ah...that’s funny, haha…”

A quick, painless death would be perfect. But no. 

Instead, she watched as Gabriel continued with his drawing, ignoring her again as he focused. She heard the clock in the hall chime the hour. It really was late, wasn’t it? But the rain still hadn’t let up. 

“Do you have any cats?” she asked, out of the blue, her voice croaking a little.

Gabriel looked up, a little surprised, perhaps.

“Oh, no. I’m allergic.”

“Ah…” she only nodded.

Her chance was sitting right there, practically begging for her to take it. She could already hear Anatole the next morning in class.

‘You sat for how long with him? And you didn’t tell him you adore everything he does? What’s wrong with you?’ 

But the more she sat there, pretending to read, she more she felt in her gut that it wasn’t right. 

She hardly knew him. Hell, she’d just learned he was allergic to cats. And she loved cats! 

Was it rational? To open her heart to a guy who she didn’t really know? Who was about to go on to college? She may never see him again, let alone have any chance of a future with him. He was a rising star, that much was obvious. His designs had been featured everywhere recently, and the school was abuzz about his rumored high-profile job offer. While she found herself receiving rejection and rejection from modeling agencies across Paris. It had been a pointless dream anyway, to imagine herself in the world of fashion, an iconic beauty worthy of attention - His attention. 

As doubt flooded her mind, so did tears in her eyes. She had always known that it was hopeless. But it still hurt.

“Hey…” she heard, “It’s Nathalie, right?”

She closed her eyes.

A hand rested on hers but she pulled away.

“Are you okay?”

Pity was the last thing she wanted.

Grabbing her things blindly, she shoved it all in her bag and left the room as quickly as her feet would allow, her eyes blurred with tears. In the hallway, she managed a breath, but then the tears came down even more. She could do nothing to stop them. 

She ran suddenly, out into the courtyard, where the rain came down in sheets. 

It hurt, but the rain actually soothed her for a moment. She knew she looked ridiculous, standing in the rain, crying, alone. It was melodramatic and straight out of some awful period drama. But she didn’t really care. 

But suddenly the rain stopped and her eyes flickered open, seeing Gabriel standing there, confusion and concern in his eyes, and an umbrella in his hand, covering her.

Crying alone in the rain was bad, but crying in the rain with the boy she secretly loved was an altogether worse predicament.

“You’ll get sick, come here,” he stated, guiding her back beneath the doorway, “And you forgot this.”

He pulled her book from under his jacket and handed it towards her. She accepted it silently and pressed it to her chest. 

He let out a disgruntled sigh and turned to walk away, but then glanced over his shoulder.

“You know, they end up alright in the end…” he began, quiet and uncertain.

Nathalie could only stare at him blankly, the point escaping her. 

He gestured towards her book nervously.

“I mean, Jane and Mr. Rochester. It’s pretty bad there for a while, but everything works out,” he smiled a little, “Happily ever after, and all that.”

She nodded, still unsure why he felt it necessary to spoil the ending of such a classic.

“I don’t know what has made you so upset,” he explained gently, “But an ending like that should give you some hope for the future, I think.”

He turned away, a strange sort of skip in his step as he continued on his way towards the library. She was alone again, though her heart was lighter. Still disappointed in herself, but far from the heartbroken mess she’d been just moments before.

As Nathalie walked home, however, she wanted to believe it was all some sort of fever dream, that’d she’d wake up with little-to-no recollection of that day, but no. It was burned into her memory like a brand, replaying over and over. 

‘They end up alright in the end…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! More to come!  
> Please feel free to leave a comment, I adore hearing from you all!


	4. Chapter 4

Nathalie felt her phone buzz again, for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. But she ignored it.   
Her mind was racing, a flurry of doubt and regret, though she tried to suppress it. The last thing she wanted was for Hawkmoth to feel her emotions again. 

It was embarrassing, more than anything. She should have known it from the moment she entered his office for her first interview, years ago, that he did not recognize her. It wasn’t as if she had actually expected him to remember everything. They’d spoken a grand total of twelve times in the time she’d obsessed over him in highschool, but somehow, she’d hoped…

Shaking the thought away, she watched backstage as Adrien finished up the last of his hair and makeup. The show had begun moments previous, but Adrien wouldn’t go on for a little while.

Checking the time, Nathalie’s stomach dropped. 10:43 pm.

Anatole…

She’d completely forgotten her promise to meet him.

She pulled out her phone, her eyes scanning over the notifications there. A handful of texts and ten missed calls from Gabriel. And one text from Anatole.

‘Are you coming? 2nd floor.”

Nathalie excused herself and raced out. She tried to maneuver her way through the backstage as quickly as she could, and then dash to the Eiffel Tower utility stairs. She silently thanked the stars that Anatole hadn’t asked to meet her at the very top.

Climbing to the second floor gave her the time she needed to clear her head and prepare her herself for whatever it was Anatole wanted to discuss. He was her oldest friend, but seeing him again after so long was strange to say the least. There was so much they needed to catch up on, but why did he seem so determined to speak to her alone?

Upon reaching the landing, Nathalie gasped at the sight before her.

The Paris skyline was breathtaking as the moon shone over the city of lights. Around her on the landing sat dozens of candles, their flickering flames dancing in the cold breeze. There were rose petals too, no doubt leftovers from the event, scattered along the floor towards a table and chairs. On the table, a bottle of champagne and a bouquet of ruby red roses.

Anatole stood before her, though his back was turned towards the city. Just from his stance, she could tell he was holding his breath, anxious and waiting, twirling his pocket watch.

“So, Anatoly,” she asked, trying to remain unmoved despite the romantic atmosphere, “You wanted to talk to me?”

Anatole turned, and Nathalie found herself confronted with his gaze, warm and loving and desperate. Her gut was in knots and she was frozen in shock as he stepped towards her.

“Nathalie Sancouer,” he began, extending his hand and offering her a seat, “It has been eighteen years, but I have finally found the courage to tell you the truth. The truth about my feelings for you.”

God, this was not what she expected at all. And she dreaded every passing moment as she sat down and he began to pour her a flute of champagne.

“To me, you are perfect,” he continued, as though he were the lead in some cheesy rom-com, “I have not been able to stop thinking about you. The friendship we shared as children and students has guided me back home to Paris - to you.”

“Anatoly-”

“Let me finish, please,” he begged, taking a gulp of the champagne as though it were a shot, “I have to speak my heart. I must tell you that I-”

“Love me?” she asked, the words sounding bitter on her tongue.

Anatole’s eyes widened, “Yes, yes, exactly, I love-”

“You hardly know me, Anatoly,” Nathalie continued and she looked up to the moon, it's cold face bringing no comfort, “How can you love someone you don’t even know.”

Anatole took her hand, “But I do know you, Nat. Though, I admit you are rather different than the old Nat I knew. What happened to her?” he asked, his hold tightening around her hand, “You had so many dreams when we were growing up. We shared everything back then. Can’t you tell me what’s happened to the girl I used to know? The girl who never gave up; the girl who wanted to be the most famous model in Paris, who worked her ass off to get into the best fashion studies program; the girl who pinned after the same upperclassman asshole for almost two years- ”

“Things change, Anatoly-”

“Not for us, right?” he cut off as he stood and walked to kneel at her feet, pleading and hungry, “You and I, we’re so alike. We work harder than anyone, we want more than what life’s given us - but we also like the comfort of the familiar, something safe to return to. That’s why I always carry this…”

He pulled out his pocket watch. It was gilded with gold, with fine vine-work around the face. Along the back, Nathalie saw the familiar hand-etched initials, N + A. 

“You remember this?”

“How could I forget?” she let out, a little breathless, “We etched that the day before graduation. It was your father’s. He was furious.”

“Well, we ruined it in the best way possible,” he laughed as he lovingly smoothed a finger over the initials, “I don’t think I could ever replace it in a million years, Nat. It means that much to me. You mean that much to me. Even now, after all this time, I...”

“Anatole, stop this,” Nathalie stood, pulling her hand away forcibly.

“I can’t,” he declared, “I’ve kept my silence for years, and I’m not going to stop until I’ve told you the truth. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Even as kids, I loved you. I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t know how. But I’m not a kid anymore.”

He stood to his feet and neared her, taking her hand again.

“Anatoly-”

“You don’t know your worth, Nat. But I do,” he smiled as he drew closer, his eyes searching hers, “You are beautiful and kind and clever, you’re-”

“Perfect?” she asked, icy and distant.

He blinked once, clearly confused by her tone.

Nathalie found herself letting out a laugh. It was cruel, truly heartless. But she couldn’t stop. 

“Oh Anatole, perfect doesn’t exist,” she finally let out as she backed away from him, “And if it did, I certainly wouldn’t fit the description. You don’t know who I am anymore, the person I’ve turned into, the things I’ve done…” she sighed and her breathing hitched, “Whatever you feel now, it’s not love. That much I promise you.”

“Nat-”

“I’m sorry,” she closed her eyes, maintaining her cold exterior as best she could, “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve suffered all this time. And I appreciate the gesture, the flowers, everything. I know how hard it must be, holding onto a one-sided love…”

Anatole’s eyes lowered, and she hated the heartbreak she saw in them. She’d felt it herself time and time again. But it was necessary.

“But I don’t feel the same. Even if I did, my work, my life, it’s...complicated,” she stated and turned away back towards the stairs, “I’m sorry. I hope you can understand.”

Glancing over her shoulder, she watched Anatole collapse back into a chair with his head in one hand, the other clutching his pocket watch. It was a sorry sight, this broken man amongst the beautiful lights of the city. 

She felt her heart pity him, wanting to go to him and apologize for everything, to take back the hurtful words and throw herself into his arms, to feel loved for once in her life. But what could she do? Lie to him? Pretend to love him back? Take advantage of his feelings?

She was a villain and a liar, but she had to draw the line somewhere.

She wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, but as she descended the steps, she felt numb. Her heart had been on quite the rollercoaster, and the night was still young.

With a sigh, she glanced at her phone, realizing that she hadn’t received a message or call from Gabriel in a while. She scrolled through his earlier texts.

‘Nathalie why aren’t you picking up?’

‘Please answer.’

‘I’m sorry.’

She rolled her eyes and dialed his number. He answered before the first ring ended. Pathetic.

“Nathalie, I know I’m a fool, and I know you probably hate me,” he began without so much as a breath, “But believe me when I say that I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she let out, “It was a long time ago and-”

“It’s not fine!” Gabriel interrupted, flustered, “I’ve been blind. An utter fool. How can you be okay with that?”

She snickered, “I’m used to it.”

Gabriel went silent and she could only imagine his face. Priceless. 

“Sir, how is the plan?” she asked as she neared the bottom of the stairs and began towards the seating area around the stage, “I take it Miss. Dupain-Chang is quite distraught? Phase 2 was a success, if I do say so myself. I pulled at her heartstrings perfectly.”

She saw Adrien on the cat-walk, hitting his dance cues and smiling for the audience. It was a fun-filled performance, but she knew it was an act. He was no-doubt seething with anger at his father’s decision to move to Japan. But that would pass. 

“I did notice her increased distress, and even now, I feel it changing, growing stronger,” Gabriel described, “This is a heartbreak I could never have concocted alone. I thank you, Nathalie.”

She found herself blushing, “Anything for you, sir.”

She heard him begin his usual monologue as he created an akuma and sent it off into the night. 

“It’s only a matter of time,” he stated, “Nathalie, make sure Adrien is far away from Marinette before my akuma finds its mark.”

At that moment, the show reached its intermission and Nathalie scanned the audience for Marinette. She was easy to spot in the crowd, but something was wrong. The girl was smiling. She was happy, elated even, as she chatted with the people around her. Designers and members of the press. 

Nathalie tried to move closer through the crowd, to hear their conversation, and realized with horror, that Marinette’s designs and accessories had been something of a sensation that evening.

“Would you consider contributing to my spring line?”

“What are your plans for the future? Any thoughts to studying in New York? Or London?”

“What inspired you to use a black and red color scheme?”

The girl was flustered, but seemed to be enjoying the limelight, answering questions and discussing her visions and plans. 

“Shit…” Nathalie muttered as their plans crumbled before her eyes. 

“Nathalie?” she heard on the line. Gabriel hadn’t hung up.

“Sir, you said you felt heartbreak, right? From Marinette?” she asked.

He paused, but hummed in confirmation.

“Are you absolutely sure it was her? It isn't anyone else?” 

Another pause.

“But that doesn’t make sense…” he began, thinking, “It’s so strong… Who else could be this heartbroken?"

Without another word, Nathalie turned on her heels and ran.

\-------------------

Gabriel could tell something was wrong. Nathalie had dropped the call, and he could sense a pulse of fear emulating from her, even across Paris. 

He closed his eyes, trying to zone in on the heartbreak he felt coming from somewhere in the Eiffel Tower. It was the heartbreak of the deepest kind, a love lost after decades of silent longing-

Decades?

Marinette was only a teenager, and had only known his son since…

Curiosity overcame him as he dissected the emotions further.

This person hadn’t been in love, per se. They were obsessed, fixated after years of silence and distance. Their earnest advances had been quashed, and they were left alone, hopeless, questioning everything they had ever known about the object of their affection. They cursed the time spent wasted, knowing that it was time which had stolen away their love. 

These emotions were strong - stronger than even Marinette’s. 

“A thwarted love, eh?” Gabriel mused, “Fly to this heartbroken soul, my little Akuma! Our plan may succeed yet!”

The corrupted butterfly continued on, it’s course now reset. As it neared the tower, Gabriel’s phone rang again.

“Natha-”

“You have to summon it back!” she shouted, panting for air and sounding as though she’d run a marathon.

“But these emotions...they’re so powerful!” 

“That doesn’t matter, you have to call it off! Please!” Nathalie pleaded and Gabriel was almost moved.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, this is exactly what we needed!” he argued, “We are so close, Nathalie! So close to our goal!”

“But…” her voice lowered, and he thought she had given up, but she continued, “It’s my fault. I should never have spoken to him like that, it’s...It’s Anatole.”

Gabriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn't quite know what to think. But Nathalie sounded...guilty?

He heard her sigh in frustration, “It’s a long story and I don’t have time to explain. But please, just trust me.”

He wanted to trust her. Of course he did. He always had. 

“Nathalie, I…”

But this loss, this heartbreak…

“I’m sorry.”

It was delectable. 

“No, wait, don’t-” she began, but he hung up the call.

He felt a connection open as his akuma made contact and the purple communication light shone around his eyes.

“Count Down, I am Hawkmoth. Time has caused a rift to open between you and your old love, but soon everyone will know how it feels to be up against the clock. All I ask for in return are Ladybug and Cat Noir’s miraculous. Do we have a deal?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!  
> I want to take this time to thank everyone for all your feedback and support for this story! Dont worry, there is definitely more to come! Enjoy :)

"We both will ring in the New Year with our heart's desire, Hawkmoth. You can count on me."

Nathalie heard his answer before she saw him, Count Down. She'd tried to run to Anatole in the tower, to soothe his hurting and to put an end to Gabriel's impromptu plan, but she was too late. 

She had just reached the top of the stairs only to watch with horror as her old friend emerged from a cloud of purple. 

His suit had changed into historical gentleman's attire and his face was covered with a white mask. Even with the sparkling gold cape, he looked every inch the mysterious phantom-type hero Nathalie had seen on the covers of girlish romance novels. 

In the brief moment after his transformation, Nathalie managed to duck behind a pillar, praying he didn't have some sort of power that could sense her out. 

Luckily, Gabriel wasnt that clever. 

Count Down merely leapt up to the balcony's ledge and stared up at the moon. 

"Now that I am Count Down, you will know how it feels, Nathalie," he muttered softly.

Then he deftly jumped off the ledge and out of sight.

Nathalie felt her knees go weak even as she raced to the edge. Fearful of what she might see, she glanced over and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his glittering cape had a sort of floating ability, and that he had landed on the ground floor in one piece. 

She buckled to her knees despite herself and waited for her heart to still its panicked beating.

Then came the screams and Count Down's evil cackles, and Nathalie found herself bolting down the stairs again.

She could hear his boisterous monologue, stating that all of Paris would be driven crazy by their unrequited loves and that he would get his revenge. 

As she neared the final staircase down, she decided to bypass the stairs and instead jumped onto the stage light scaffolding ladders. From her position above the catwalk, she could see Count Down shooting strange dart-like projectiles from center stage. Whenever someone was struck, they began to mutter nonsensical lovesick ramblings. 

"I have to find her!" 

"There's no time!"

"I need to tell him my feelings!"

They would then drop everything and race off into the city, gaining almost superhuman willpower to track down whoever it was they secretly loved. Even happy couples were torn apart as they were overcome by feelings for their first loves and celebrity crushes. 

Count Down's power was ridiculous, really, but not completely ineffective. The fashion show was utterly ruined, and it would be easy for him to send the entire city into hysteria. 

Mere moments after the first attack, Ladybug appeared and Nathalie took the opportunity to sneak down into the backstage.

She hadn't seen Adrien in the initial frenzy, but she had no clue where else he could be. Had he been struck? Was he rushing off somewhere to find some secret crush?

Gabriel had diverted from the plan despite her warnings, her best friend was brainwashed into a supervillain, and her miraculous was miles away in the Agreste Mansion, but she could still protect Adrien.

She could hear Ladybug and Count Down fighting as she continued searching through the backstage, when she spotted a blonde mop of hair turn around a corner ahead of her.

"Adrien!" She shouted, grabbing the boy's arm before he got out of her sight.

He turned to her panicked, "Nathalie, thank goodness, are you okay?"

"I'm fine but we have to go. Now!" She began to drag him down the hall, but he resisted.

"Wait! I, uh, I think I saw Marinette hiding back there, I need to make sure she's okay!" He tried to pull from her grasp, but Nathalie pressed on.

"Are you crazy? What would your Father think if you got hurt?" Nathalie stated, though she hated the irony, "I know you want to protect your friend, but I can't let you risk your safety."

Adrien kept pulling back, but Nathalie managed to get him out where the car was parked. Gorilla was nowhere in sight, so she shoved Adrien inside before taking the wheel herself and started the ignition. 

Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw glimpses of Count Down’s shimmering cloak as he continued his battle with Ladybug. The hero appeared to be holding her own, and Nathalie could only hope she would actually beat him. It would serve Gabriel right to be defeated yet again.

Adrien also watched the fighting, his knee bouncing with anxiety.

“Please, I need to go back!” he begged, but she only accelerated the engine and swerved out onto the street.

Getting Adrien home and safe was her only priority.

\----------------

Gabriel watched the battle through Count Down’s eyes as his golden darts pierced through the air towards Ladybug. The hero was too quick, however, and narrowly avoided every shot, her yo-yo spinning around to deflect the shots. 

He let out a groan. This was maddening. Count Down had been an ingenious creation, the outfit, the name, the aesthetic, everything was spectacular. Even the weapon had been particularly clever, with Anatole’s old pocket watch now a never-ending source of magic clock-hand darts. If only Count Down could manage to land a shot…

Count Down began off on another tangent, something about time and love and regrets.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to tell someone how you feel?” Count Down asked, his voice shaking with anger, “Have you been forced to keep your love secret? While they slipped further and further away from you?”

Ladybug blinked, and her yo-yo’s spinning slowed. 

"I know how it feels," she looked down, her shoulders slouching, "And it's awful…"

Gabriel had never seen Ladybug so forlorn, not since the old Guardian had relinquished his powers that day against Miracle Queen. 

But she stood straight again, her confidence returning. 

"It hurts, but that doesn't mean we get to hurt others. No one can heal that way!"

Count Down took that moment to cast out a dart, but the hero jumped away just in time for the dart to hit a metal beam and come hurtling back towards him.

“Wait, no!” Gabriel shouted, but it was in vain. The dart had struck Count Down, and Gabriel could feel the akuma succumbing to its own powers.

“Nathalie, I have to find her! Where did she go?” Count Down frantically let out, “I need to make her mine!”

Gabriel could sense his control slipping as Count Down fluttered his cape and disappeared into the night, retreating from Ladybug’s attacks to search the city streets instead.

“Count Down you must go back! You almost had her! We must get her miraculous!”

All Gabriel heard was a manic laugh.

“I don’t care about some stupid jewelry, Hawkmoth,” Count Down was completely delirious, his words slurring and crazed, “I need Nathalie to understand how I truly feel. And once I strike her with my powers, she will finally realize that she feels the same. Haaha, right? She’s only been lying to herself, that’s all. She’ll see, you’ll all see...”

The vision Gabriel could see through Count Down's eyes dimmed as the connection continued to wither away. 

“Don’t you lay a finger on her!” Gabriel cried out and tried to call back the akuma, to end this pathetic reign of vengeance, but the connection was too weak. 

Gabriel could no longer zone in on Count Down’s exact location, or see through his eyes. He could only hear the sounds of the city, and the gentle glimmering sounds as darts soared through the air and struck unsuspecting citizens. There was chaos, and confusion, screams.

And it made Gabriel’s blood run cold. 

He took off, leaving the safety of his lair, without a second thought to the risk he was taking. So what if his identity was revealed, his years of planning wasted, and his life ruined? Nathalie was out there somewhere, and he couldn’t control his own akuma. 

She had been right, of course. She always was. He felt sick to his stomach as he raced along the rooftops.

He recalled the anguish in Nathalie’s voice and her passionate plea for him to spare her friend. But he’d ignored her. Why? He had entrusted her with his evil identity, the nature of his villainous acts - his life was very much in her hands. So why couldn’t he bring himself to trust her in regards to Anatole? 

He knew the answer, deep down. But he still couldn’t admit it to himself. Not yet. Not now. 

Now, he needed to focus on finding Nathalie before Count Down.

As he paused atop a building, he flipped open the dome of his cane and tried to hone in on the GPS tracker on Nathalie’s phone. She'd agreed to this safety measure, of course. No boss would dare infringe upon his employee's privacy in such a way. 

Her signal was easy to find on the map, and it was in the same place as Adrien’s, hurrying down the lane from the Eiffel Tower. 

He felt a wave of relief as he watched the little dots move on a steady route to the Agreste Mansion. At least they were together and safe, for now. He set off again over the rooftops towards their location, when he spotted a flash of gold also darting over city skyline, followed by a spot of red. 

He changed his course, confident that if Nathalie could just get to the house, she and Adrien would both be safe. He would fight Count Down himself, even if it meant working with his enemy in order to release the akuma and cleanse the city.

It was laughable, really, but what else could he do? This was his mess, afterall. And he intended to fix it, no matter the cost.

\----------------

Nathalie sped down the road, glancing in the rearview to check that Count Down had not managed to follow them. Suddenly a mob in the street blocked their path and she was forced to come to a screeching stop.

Dozens of teenage girls flooded the streets around the Agreste Mansion, all under the effect of Count Down's power. They were clawing at the gate and trying to climb the wall around the house, calling out Adrien's name.

Nathalie raised a brow and turned to the teen in question, who merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess people love my modeling work?" He wondered aloud.

Suddenly one of the girls turned and spotted their car, and the mob turned on them in an instant, grabbing at the car and trying to get the doors open.

"Adrien I love you!"

"I have loved you for so long!"

Nathalie tried to speed away but Adrien shouted in fear as yet another mob of fans came at them from the other side of the road, pinning them in completely. 

Adrien went to open his door but Nathalie locked it.

"They can't get you in here," she stated, opening her own door, "Just wait it out until Ladybug beats the akuma."

"But-" 

"Please, it's for your own safety." 

She set the emergency lock and shut the door, noting that the crowd of girls were too focused on Adrien to attack her as she forced her way through them. 

Making a break for it, Nathalie raced across to the gate. She had just begun to type in her security code when she heard a loud crash and turned to see Count Down standing on top of the car, the force of his magic sending the mob flying back. 

"Nathalie, my dear," he began, readying a dart, "I have always loved you, yet you reject me. You will finally admit your true feelings once I'm through with you!"

He sent the dart flying, and Nathalie rolled her eyes as she leaned to the side, easily avoiding the shot. 

"You can't possibly believe that I would ever admit my feelings, Anatole," she asked as he sent out another dart and missed again, "You might not realize this but I don't have those anymore. Not for you, not for anyone-"

"Its Count Down now, sweetheart," he reminded her and continued to berate her with darts, missing every time as she ducked and swerved to avoid them, "And I don't believe that for a second…"

\-----------------

Gabriel heard Nathalie's voice through his strained connection with Count Down, and he realized he was too late. 

But of course he was, because he'd accidentally found himself facing off against the business end of Ladybug's yo-yo.

"What are you doing here Hawkmoth?" She demanded, her yo-yo spinning faster as she walked closer, cornering him against the wall of a chimney stack, "Here to admit defeat and turn over your miraculous? Or am I going to have to fight you?"

He sighed and raised his hands.

"I don't want to fight you, Ladybug, for once. My akuma had gone rogue-"

"Rogue? Is that even possible? How can I believe you?"

She was asking the right questions, and he couldn't really blame her for hesitating, given his track-record.

"It's a long story…" he began only to be cut off by the sounds in his head.

'It was Gabriel Agreste, wasn't it? The boy you adored in school?"

'Anatole, that is ancient history. It was only a crush-'

'I think not, dearest Nat. I think you've been holding onto this little crush far longer than I realized. But I have finally figured it out-'

'Anatoly, stop this-'

'You still love him, don't you? After all this time?'

Gabriel's heart stopped. He couldn't hear Nathalie respond, but it was her silence which confirmed Count Down's claims.

He could hardly process what he'd heard when he felt a sharp pain at his temple as Ladybug's yo-yo clocked him on the head and he let out a yelp.

"Oh, I'm sorry that was harder than I expect- er, I mean, that's what you get villain," she shouted, "Now surrender!"

His head still ringing, Gabriel searched for an opening, an escape, anything. Suddenly, he saw it, his chance.

With a deft vertical leap, he jumped and planted his feet on the top of the chimney above them. He finally had the high ground, but instead of using the opportunity to defeat Ladybug, he raced off, towards Nathalie and Count Down.

His head was a fumbled mess. His heart was far worse.

Nathalie...loved him?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, and Happy New Year! Thanks so much for your feedback, and for your patience! It's a bit of a shorter chapter, but I hope you all like it! More to come! Enjoy!

Nathalie loved him…

It was impossible. 

Or at least, that's what Gabriel told himself as he came to a landing atop another building, breathless and overwhelmed.

She couldn't possibly have feelings for him. It was just Anatole's jealous ramblings, a simple misunderstanding. Nothing more.

But the voices in his head told him a different story.

'You don't understand, Anatole-'

'Oh, I understand just fine. Does he know?'

Silence. 

'Have the two of you been involved this whole time?'

Silence again. 

'So tell me, Nat, did you begin sleeping with him before or after his wife disappeared?'

'Shut up! Shut up! He doesn't know anything, alright? I haven't told him!'

Nathalie shouted, her voice rough and desperate. Gabriel felt her anger through his miraculous, anger and pangs of guilt, too. 

He heard Count Down laugh, cruel and manic. Anymore. He couldn’t stand it anymore.

Gathering himself again, he took another running start and leaped across the alleyway toward the main street. He needed to be there, to protect Nathalie, to make up for his failure. Make that 'failures', plural. For he couldn't count the number of times he'd taken her for granted. But not this time. 

\-------------

Nathalie had just about had it. Count Down still fired his stupid darts, and flourished his stupid cape, and laughed his stupid evil laugh. It was useless. 

She needed to get Adrien out and safe, even if it meant distracting Count Down enough to give Adrien a chance to get away. If only the boy would take the hint.

"I am telling you the truth, Anatole," she tried to explain as she edged her way closer to the car, "Nothing has happened between Gabriel and me. And nothing is going to happen. Because I'm never going to tell him."

"We'll see about that," Count Down threatened, "If I can't have you to myself, I'll just make your life a living hell. A personal assistant in love with her married boss? That'll make headlines."

His darts came flying and it was all Nathalie could do to avoid them. She'd been careful up until this point, for Adrien's sake, but she was tired and her energy was fading fast. The old wounds from her time as Mayura had healed for the most part, but her stamina wasn't the same without powers.

"Or better yet, you will face the same rejection which you dished out to me," Count Down’s laughter cracked with sinister glee, "I can already imagine his face! Disgusted, mortified at the very thought of you actually entertaining affection for the great Gabriel Agreste? Haha! What a joke!"

With a final strike, Count Down sent a dagger her way and before she could react, she felt a stinging heat at her shoulder. She fell to her knees and pressed a hand to the point of impact, but there was no blood. There was just a dull, flaming pain. And then nothing. 

She wondered for a moment if the magic had failed, somehow. 

But then it hit her all at once, in the pit of her stomach. A panic. A compulsion. She tried to fight it but it was too strong. She needed to find him. Gabriel. She couldn't wait a moment longer. How much time had she wasted? 

Without another thought, she wretched herself up off the street and took off for the mansion gate. Slamming a fist into the keypad and shattering the security lock mechanism, she managed to pull the gate open with her bare hands before racing into the mansion.

She didn't have time to think, she needed to confess. It was now or never.

\------------ 

Gabriel came to a halt atop his own house as he took in the scene before him.

Count Down on his knees in the street with his head in his hands. And was he...crying? Gabriel rolled his eyes. This was definitely not how he had planned this night. For several reasons, of course, but least of all this. 

His own car was parked in front of the gate, it’s roof dented badly, and there were dozens of girls surrounding it, all shouting his son’s name as they clawed at the doors and windows. 

Gabriel realized his son was trapped, though still safe within the car. He continued to scan the area for Nathalie, but there was no sign of her. He checked the GPS tracker but her signal was nowhere to be found. 

Suddenly, Ladybug was there, ready for battle as she swung down to the street and began towards Count Down. She seemed quite capable of taking down the now-disheartened akuma, but Gabriel couldn’t help but wonder where her Cat was. The black cat was never too far behind. Had he been struck as his civilian self? What a tremendously ironic stroke of luck. 

If only things were different, Gabriel would have relished the opportunity to take down both heroes. But Nathalie had disappeared and his rational head couldn't drown out the panic in his heart.

Count Down stood to his feet as a few helicopters arrived with news cameras and reporters, all focused on the impending battle. Gabriel could sense his courage returning with the new audience, and with a flutter of his cloak, Count Down advanced on Ladybug. 

The two spared off, Ladybug’s yo-yo spinning to block Count Down’s darts. She was quick, clever, doing backflips and jumping around to focus his shots at her instead of the camera crews and gathering crowds. She also managed to use her yo-yo to fling several girls away from the car. 

“Adrien, now!” She shouted, finally, and Gabriel spotted his son open the car door and make a break for it down a side street and out of sight. But where was Nathalie?

Ladybug’s battle continued, and Count Down was growing more and more furious. 

“Why can’t you stand still! Then you would know how it feels!” he spat out, sending out dart after dart.

“I already told you,” the hero replied, “I know how you feel, but we’re different. I am choosing not to let my emotions control me. You can still make that same choice!”

Count Down only growled and pressed on, his aim growing wilder and his emotions more unhinged.

“I am doing just fine with my powers, thank you!” he snarled, “It’s because of this power that I can see the truth about love and loss. Everyone should suffer as I have!”

“Oh, we'll see about that,” Another voice responded as a black figure descended upon the fight.

Cat Noir landed next to his Ladybug, the pair poised to cleanse and destroy. The ultimate duo. 

Gabriel watched from his hiding spot as the battle continued on, with Ladybug calling upon her Lucky Charm - a champagne glass of all things. A part of him wanted to enter the fray, to help take down Count Down. But another greater part of him could only think of Nathalie. He needed to find her, to make sure she was safe, to make up for everything. But with so many helicopters and spotlights around, there was no chance he could sneak away to search for her without being noticed. 

He hardly had time to consider his options when he heard hurried steps behind him, scurrying across the rooftop at top speed. He turned, prepared to face off against some third miraculous user Ladybug had called for assistance, but all he could see was blue. 

Blue and purple and beautiful.

He felt hands cup his face and pull him down and it was all he could do to stay on his feet as lips came crashing into his. 

Mayura.

She was desperate and wild, pressing closer against him. His hands tentatively settled on her waist as she kissed him again and again. But it wasn't enough for him, and he quickly enveloped her in his arms, holding her even closer, kissing her even deeper. 

He felt as though a floodgate had burst in his heart and, for the first time, he was overcome by the all-consuming, selfless, unrequited love Nathalie had felt for him, for years. Never once had he thought to actually sense out her positive emotions with his powers, but now it was all he could feel. It was in his blood, racing through him as he held her. But perhaps this emotion was not entirely hers alone. 

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and a glimmer of magic energy rippled through them, but Gabriel couldn't be bothered to pull away from Mayura. 

He needed her. He needed her in his life, helping him, supporting him. He needed her healthy, and safe, and alive. He needed her not only as a partner in crime but a partner in everything he did. Why had he never seen it before? Had he been so blinded by his own goals that he could not see the answer right in front of him?

With these heavy questions running through his mind, and the feeling of her in his arms, Gabriel was completely and utterly unaware of the outside world. That is until Mayura ended their kiss and he opened his eyes only to see her head fall on his chest, her body giving out from the exhaustion of her powers. He'd told her never to use the miraculous again - at least, not until the repairs were complete. But as he held her tighter, he couldn't be mad. He was worried, frantic. He felt her breathing against him, but that didn't stop him from fearing the worst. 

He looked around to reacquaint himself with reality and realized, with some degree of embarrassment, that the spotlight from a nearby helicopter had given away their position, and that the citizens below were pointing and yelling, having pulled out their cellphones to capture Paris’s most notorious supervillains. 

A split moment passed as Gabriel spotted Anatole, now de-akumatized, being assisted to his feet by the heroes, who then turned to look up at them, confused as they drew out their weapons again. He didn't have time to wonder how Ladybug had managed to defeat Count Down, or to bother shouting out some scathing threat. 

Unphased by the crowds and the lights, he lifted Mayura and took off, blindly, unsure where he was going. He couldn't go home, it would draw too much suspicion. But where else in all of Paris could they possibly hide?

As he ran, he felt Mayura nestle her head against his shoulder, a contented hum on her lips. 

"It's alright, my dearest Nathalie," he whispered in her hair, "I’ve got you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all. I know, it's been a while. Stuff happened.  
> But Happy Chinese New Year! So technically, this is still relevant!   
> Lols thanks so much for sticking in there and supporting this story.   
> It's been a slice.

It had been a lovely dream. Being kissed by Gabriel. Feeling how he yearned for her, how tightly he held her before he scooped her up in his arms and raced off into the night.

She’d imagined it a million times before, and yet this time, her fantasy felt uncannily real. But as she felt his hold around her weaken and the ghosting of a kiss on her forehead, Nathalie was resigned to the fact that her fantasies were only that - fantasy. 

Waking, however, forced her to realize that her dreams were not entirely beyond the realm of possibility.

Nathalie tried reaching for her glasses but was surprised to feel that there was no side table or another chair around her. She squinted further only to find them perched precariously on the edge of the chaise lounge she was sitting in. Her glasses were indestructible, she could hardly afford otherwise given her line of work. But still, she retrieved them quickly and placed them safely on her face where they belonged.

Now that her vision was clear, she realized, with a sinking in her stomach, that she was not at the Agreste Mansion, her apartment, or any other place which would have made any amount of sense given the last thing she remembered was standing in front of the mansion, fighting against...Anatole?

She blinked.

Anatole. Gabriel had akumatized him. 

That bastard. 

Heated anger rose in her and she wondered how quickly she could write up a resignation letter. 

But she sighed again, the fury quickly smothered by that all too familiar sense of loyalty. She couldn’t just leave him like that. But maybe it was time to use all that paid vacation time she’d accumulated...

She rolled her eyes and lay back on the chaise as she took stock of her surroundings. She was in a tiny sort of tent... room… thing. There was a vanity with lights, and a clothes rack to one side, also a space heater. 

Right, she remembered now. Adrien’s dressing room for the charity show. 

She heard her phone message notification and looked to see it on the vanity. She rose to her feet and saw there was also a bottle of water, a few aspirins.

The text was from Gabriel.

“Take the aspirin. It should help. Outside at the party.”

Party? 

Nathalie checked the time. It was only 11:34. Still New Year’s Eve. 

She took the aspirin with a swig of water and checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked positively ghostly. But it was the best she could do. Considering she had no memory of the past hour, who was she to judge her appearance. She could have been to hell and back.

She waited a moment, hearing the pulsing music outside and the sounds of people shouting. God, she hated parties. But so did Gabriel, so the very fact that he claimed to be at the said party was a mystery.

Taking a breath, she opened the door and made her way through the backstage area. The music grew louder as she continued on to the reception tent, glimpsing in to see that the crowd from the fashion show earlier had dwindled significantly. Apparently an Akuma attack is all it takes to break up a party. There were still several celebrities and other guests, but the festivities did not seem nearly so overwhelming as they had been. So she entered the room and began searching for Gabriel.

It didn’t take long.

Amongst half a dozen of Adrien’s friends on their phones, Gabriel stood, his shoulders hunched a little as he crossed his arms, a strange sort of half-smirk on his lips.

“You simply don’t understand,” he stated firmly, more serious than she’d ever seen him, even when speaking to their legal team, “She clearly is the brains of the operation, so - if I understand how you’ve explained the naming convention - her name should be first.”

“I disagree,” a boy with dark glasses, Nino, argued, “He’s been the big bad this entire time! He was here first!”

Gabriel raised a brow, “And how can you be so sure? Perhaps she has been there since the beginning. We would be none the wiser.”

The kid let out an exasperated sigh as another student, the reporter girl, pulled out her phone and appeared to be showing them something. 

“And if you look at this frame-by-frame I managed to create from the live news footage, she clearly makes the first move!”

“Not you too, Alya!” Nino cried out in defeat.

“It’s okay dude, I’m on your side in this,” Adrien assured him while the rest of the group cheered.

Nathalie smiled despite herself as she approached the group. Adrien saw her first and waved her over, but Gabriel instantly rushed to her side, a hand reaching to take her arm.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, concern written on every inch of his face, “You should rest. You don’t have to be here if you-”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she replied in a hushed tone as she pulled away sharply.

Gabriel raised a brow at her hesitation but she only nodded towards the teens. They all seemed to be running the numbers on Gabriel’s uncharacteristic display of emotion, their faces twisted in deep thought as though faced with a rather difficult mathematical equation. And Adrien, bless him, had the dopiest grin on his face, though he was trying to pretend as though he hadn’t noticed.

“Right, er, sorry,” Gabriel took a step back, all business.

“Nathalie, are you okay?” Adrien finally snapped from his smiling to come to her side, “I was so worried after the attack, no one could find you! And then I found you sleeping here, but I didn’t want to wake you-”

“I don’t remember anything,” she stated, “I was hit by Count Down. And I blanked. I woke up here, but I don’t know how I even got here.”

Gabriel looked at her, a curious confusion in his eyes, and a peculiar flush on his cheeks.

“So… what have you all been talking about?” Nathalie asked as they again joined Adrien and his friends.

Gabriel cleared his throat and chuckled nervously, his hand returning to her arm in an attempt to pull her away from the group, “Oh it’s nothing serious, just teen things, you know. Ship names, and hashtags, and all that.”

“Yeah I personally like HawkYura, but Father insists Maymoth is better!” Adrien explained with a pout, “I mean, just look at them!” 

He turned his phone to her and what she saw made her blood run cold, hot, and cold again, all in a matter of seconds.

Atop the Agreste Mansion, framed by bright spotlights, were Hawkmoth and Mayura, entangled in a kiss. A very deep kiss. A kiss so deep her knees almost gave out beneath her.

Nathalie wanted to run, but her feet were planted. All she could do was smile, strange and faint, and forced. 

“Oh, that’s interesting,” she muttered.

“Yeah! Who would have thought! I mean, I always assumed they were married, or at least dating, but this confirms it!”

Nino stepped in, ecstatic, “It’s trending on social media, and the news had a live broadcast! Alya even has a post on her blog-”

“It’s had more comments and views than some of my exclusive interviews with Ladybug!” she added pulling up the page on her phone, which showed a ridiculous, and ever-increasing view counter, “Isn’t that crazy?”

“Uhuh, crazy,” Nathalie heard herself let out breathlessly.

She felt Gabriel’s hand at her elbow and his thumb rub against her arm gently, as though to soothe her. It sent a smoldering warmth through her, but she pulled her arm away, her head foggy and confused. She saw Adrien look to her, a concerned wrinkle on his brow.

“Sorry, I, uh...I think I might be having one of those dizzy spells again, excuse me,” she let out, her words running together as she stepped away and headed towards the backstage entrance.

Once she was out of their sight, her breathing quickened. Her heart raced and her hands shook as she fumbled to push away some curtains and retreat further backstage. Her hand found something solid, a large, shiny set piece, and she leaned against it, breathless and panting.

Memories flooded her mind, and she fought to push them deep, deep down, where she would never have to think about them. Memories of her frantic search for Gabriel in the Mansion and lair, her desperate transformation into Mayura, and finally, the impossible moment she found him, and reached for his face, and kissed him. On top of his house, surrounded by reporters.

This was not good.

Her knees weakened beneath her again but a familiar hand slipped around her waist just in time to catch her.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered in her ear, “You need to rest, I’m taking you home-”

She pushed him away and stood to her feet, her eyes searching for anything to look at but him. Which wasn’t really difficult considering they were in near darkness.

Her face felt hot as silence fell between them.

“So…” he began gently, “You really don’t remember kissing me?”

She shook her head.

“Alright then,” he sighed, “If that’s the case, then we don’t have to discuss it. It never happened.”

He turned away and she looked up, seeing his silhouette in the darkness. A memory sparked in her mind, her foggy dream now clear as crystal. 

“But I remember you kissing me back,” she blurted.

Gabriel’s back straightened instantly, his shoulders rolling a little as his left hand clenched and unclenched a few times. A nervous tick.

“Ah,” he let out after many moments.

Another expansive silence filled the air, even as the sounds of music and party cheer continued beyond the curtains around them.

Suddenly, from further backstage, Nathalie heard footsteps.

“Marinette? What is this all about?”

Adrien.

Nathalie heard Gabriel’s feet shift as he turned to her again, and he started to speak, but she was on him in seconds, her hand lifting to cover his mouth and shush him before their cover was blown.

“Adrien, I need to tell you something. Before it’s too late and before I live to regret the words I’ve never said to you.”

The girl, Marinette?

“Adrien, I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment you handed me that umbrella when you first arrived at our school.”

“Wait you...you love me? I had no idea.”

“I know. And I’ve kept my feelings hidden because...because I don’t always know how to talk to you. You’re just so cool and thoughtful, and I feel all clumsy and weird when I’m with you. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. And you’re so talented at everything you do. I am not asking you to feel the same way for me, I only wanted to tell you the truth before you move away…”

Nathalie tried to listen closer, to hear Adrien’s response, but she only caught parts of it through the beats of the music outside.

Something about not moving to Japan...Father changed his mind...I really like you...someone else...crush for a long time...

It was useless to really make out anything he said, but the effect was clear. There was some sniffling, an apology, a hug, maybe, and laughter. 

“Thank you for telling me, Marinette,” Nathalie was finally able to catch, “I am sorry that you felt you had to keep it secret. I will always be your friend okay? We can tell each other anything. I really admire you, and trust you...”

A sniffle, and a thank you, and they both walked away and back out to the reception.

Nathalie released her breath now that the coast was clear. She released her hold on Gabriel’s mouth, realizing just how close they’d been standing as she backed away.

“That was…” he began, “Difficult to listen to. I didn’t realize my son was so oblivious to romantic affection.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far, does it,” Nathalie let out with a chuckle, instantly regretting it.

Memories of those social media photos, of their kiss, of everything it meant, came back to her full force.

“So…things are...complicated,” Gabriel let out slowly, cautious.

Nathalie rolled her eyes.

“You akumatized my best friend, despite my warnings. And you now know that I have been madly in love with you since high school,” She snapped, “Things are beyond complicated, they’re catastrophic.”

Gabriel nodded, “So...what do we do now? Going forward?”  
“What else is there we can do?” she let out, sarcasm and anger dripping in every word, “I will turn in my resignation tomorrow, and you will hire a new assistant who will know absolutely nothing about Hawkmoth. And I will move away, change my name. Maybe buy a cat.”

Gabriel remained silent, pensive.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she whispered, “But I really don’t know what else you-”

“You love me,” he said, more as a fact than a question.

His eyes pierced hers even through the darkness.

“Yes?” she confirmed wearily, “But you already knew that. Because you overheard-”

“I know, forgive me, I just…” he shook his head, “I needed to hear you say it.”

She swallowed hard, not sure of what she was hearing. He sounded gentle, confused, hopeful, relieved. She wished she could make out his facial expression more, but even as he moved closer to her, she could only see his eyes. 

“Nathalie, I…” he continued, as quiet as a prayer, “I know there is no excuse for everything I have done tonight, only let me say that I had no intention of Count Down causing you harm. God, I don’t know what I would have done if he’d actually...” 

His voice trailed off as reached out a hand and smoothed a piece of her hair behind her ear. How he managed to see it in the darkness, Nathalie couldn’t be sure. But the feeling of his hand on her cheek made her shiver. 

“Please believe me when I say that I am sorry. I have taken you for granted, I can see that now. And you’re right. The apple doesn’t fall very far, and I have been a blind fool, but Nathalie, I…I need to let you know, I-”

“Sir,” she reached up and put her hand over his, “Wherever this monologue is going, are you sure it’s where you want to go?”

Gabriel’s hand stilled on her cheek, the air hanging with tension so palpable she dared not move an inch.

“Everything we’ve been through has been for Emilie,” Nathalie explained calmly, despite her racing pulse, “Can you honestly say that one kiss from me was enough to make you forget everything you’ve been fighting for?”

His hand fell to his side in defeat as he looked down, his eyes averted from hers. She stepped away, the tension letting up for a moment as she leaned against the glimmering set piece.

“But I...I do have feelings for you, Nathalie,” he retorted, a bit on the defensive, “I can’t just ignore that now.”

“But you won’t give up on Emilie,” Nathalie choked, her eyes beginning to brim with tears, “I know you. The moment a chance comes up, a chance to overtake the heroes and get those damned miraculous, you’ll go right back to your old ways,” her eyes closed, regret and acceptance weighing down her heart, “And I’ll be right beside you, waiting, hoping that maybe I can be enough for you someday. But I’m not living through that, not again...”

She suddenly felt arms around her as he stroked her hair and held her tightly into his chest. His arms were strong, but not tight, and it was all she could do not to sob into him. Music from outside grew quiet while someone began talking into a mic. She couldn’t make out what was being said because all she could hear was the heightened beating of Gabriel’s heart.

“Can you let me try?” he asked into her hair, “I want to try, Nathalie. Please…”

He pulled back and reached under his scarf, pulling out the Butterfly Miraculous pin as he lifted one of her hands.

“What are you-”

“Take it,” he insisted as he forced it into her hand and closed her fingers around it, “Bury it the Sahara, throw it in the ocean, whatever you want.”

Nathalie was speechless. The pin in her hand, it’s cold metal pressed into her palm and she wanted to cry. Well, she was already crying, but what were a few more tears when the love of your life has gifted you the key to his magic powers?

“Nathalie?” he asked, leaning in closer to her so he could hear her over the shouts from the party outside, “Say something?”

She couldn’t help herself. A smile spread across her face and she threw her arms around his neck.

“I’m still expecting that overtime check,” she whispered before planting a kiss on his cheek.

He grinned against her and lifted a hand to the nape of her neck, tilting her head just so, and securing her in a kiss. It was far from chaste, but Nathalie tried not to let her mind wander, even as they both deepened the kiss. Gabriel’s free hand roamed along her back, holding her even closer against him and leaning her back a little in a dramatic dip. She ran a hand through his hair, relishing that this kiss would be the one she would actually remember.

Suddenly, as though the heavens themselves had opened, light flooded around them, bright and glittering, and the joyous cheers and shouting from outside the stage, now louder for some reason, all came to a screeching halt.

It took every ounce of self-control Nathalie possessed, which was quite a lot mind you, to pull away from Gabriel long enough to glance away, only to be blinded by stage lights. 

A moment passed while Gabriel’s kiss traveled to her neck. As her eyes adjusted to the lights, Nathalie’s heart stopped, a rather impressive feat considering how it had raced only seconds before. The stage curtains were open, lights from the stage were all focused in on them, and there were dozens of eyes staring up from the audience.

Nathalie felt Gabriel’s arms stiffen around her and she turned to see that he had looked up as well and that he too had realized their predicament. For it seemed the set-piece they were standing in front of was the gold Happy New Year sign which was slated to be revealed at the final stroke of midnight. Which was, of course, the very moment they were also accidentally revealed to the remaining attendees of the event. Those attendees included members of the press, the elite of fashion, Adrien, and all of Adrien’s tech-savvy and social media addict friends. 

Gabriel slowly dropped his hold of her and took to adjusting his tie and hair, which admittedly had become rather disheveled. Nathalie, too, began to refasten the top buttons of her blouse, though how they came to be unbuttoned, she really had no clue. 

“What do we do?” she whispered to him, even as she mentally prepared herself for the field day their PR consultant would have at their expense, “Should we just walk away?”

Gabriel took her hand and walked her further onto the stage and towards the steps, “Just smile. Wave. Everything’s fine.”

She did as she was told, nodding graciously to the reporters as they began to clamor for their writing pads and recorders. There were already a few cameras running, but of course they were. She wouldn’t have been lucky enough for it to be any different.

Adrien instantly ran up to them and he was joined by a trail of friends. Nathalie spotted Nino slip Alya a 20 euro note.

“Told ya so,” the girl stated as she pocketed the cash.

Adrien’s smile was the widest she’d ever seen it, and though he was a little flush with embarrassment, it was clear he was elated.

“Happy New Year Father, Nathalie,” he said in almost a squeak, “Whatcha been up to?”

Gabriel shook his head and ignored his son’s searching query, pausing a moment to take two glasses of champagne from a nearby table.

He extended one to Nathalie, who accepted sheepishly.

The two clinked their glasses as the crowd became captivated by the fireworks display above the city, lights flashing red and gold and brilliant. Nathalie was grateful, for they had a moment to themselves again. 

As the dazzling show continued on, Nathalie felt Gabriel wrap an arm around her.

“Happy New Year, sir.”

“Happy New Year, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! More to come!  
> Please let me know what you think! Validation is required...


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